


Don't Cook Crazy Tonight

by thunderbird_dragon



Category: Thunderbirds, thunderbirds are go
Genre: Brothers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 05:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19056469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderbird_dragon/pseuds/thunderbird_dragon
Summary: The Tracy Brothers return from a very very difficult day, they're tired, cold, battered, bruised but it's Gordon's turn to cook





	Don't Cook Crazy Tonight

**Don’t cook crazy tonight!**

It was Gordon’s night to cook.

Grandma was still with her ailing sister so they had been taking it in turns. And this night it was Gordon’s.

It had been a rough ride home, no-one much had spoken except for those things that needed to be said for sake of safety. John had come on the comms to advise that the GDF had arrived to tidy up after the rescue and he asked, yet again, if everyone was okay, though they all suspected that he was just checking they weren’t still tearing each other apart. Emotions had run riot for a moment or two during the rescue, tempers frayed. An uncharacteristic disagreement on how to handle the situation had left Scott furious with Virgil and Gordon, cuts, bruises and dislocations spread evenly between them all and Alan so furious with everyone, that he had not wanted to be in TB2’s cockpit for the journey home.

On entering the hanger, Virgil turned on Gordon through tightened jaws, “I’ll check the pods and put the module to bed, you start on the dinner!” He added with a snap, “And Gordon!  Tonight – don’t cook crazy – no-one wants any of your rabbit food! We’re all cold and hungry, we’ll want normal food.” Then once his brother had left the cockpit, he wished he hadn’t been so aggressively fierce, it hadn’t been Gordon’s fault – well not all of it anyway. He rubbed at his re-located shoulder and decided that he certainly wasn’t looking forward to de-briefing later.

Down in the module, Alan was putting tracking back in its housing. Virgil asked to check the stitching he placed on the cut to Alan’s neck, the boy had flicked his brother’s hand away and said it could wait until later and carried on with what he was doing. Virgil pulled a face, well okay then, but Alan was going to have to face the fact that it was partially his fault too.

Soon after Gordon, Scott was next back into the house. He padded barefoot into the kitchen, scanning every detail, worried that he would find signs of the fruit and seeds that Gordon could so happily live on – as for Scott, he was hoping for half a cow. Just before the rescue, Gordon had an opportunity to start food preparations, so something was already cooking in the conventional oven, and whatever it was, it looked like it might be quick at least.

Gordon turned abruptly to face him, a ‘what the hell do you want?’ glare on his face.

Scott put up both hands, “Okay, I know, you weren’t the only one to blame!” He offered, knowing immediately that the look hadn’t be anything to do with the oven.

Gordon scoffed, “And of course, it’s never your fault!” he muttered, chopping at something green and distinctly rabbit food-ish.

Scott watched him.  He was leaning one hip on the edge of table, an unusual and obviously uncomfortable stance, so he asked. “How’s the back?” but was rewarded only with a shrug of Gordon’s shoulders. He obviously didn’t want to discuss the injury or that it wasn’t his dumb idea to approach the cascading shards of metal supports from that direction. “You better let Virgil take a look at it.” Scott added gruffly. “Hey – and no damned rabbit food tonight – right!”

John came on the comms again and Scott went to respond.

“Just let me know that you’re all okay down there, or do I need to come and knock your heads all together!”

Scott shook his head, “No, we’ll be fine, we’re just all freezing cold, tired and hungry at the moment.”

John shrewdly screwed up his eyes for a second, “But Gordon’s cooking tonight.” It was a simple statement but Scott knew exactly what he was implying.

“Well, at least I don’t have to!” There was an almighty clattering from the kitchen and Scott wondered if he should go back in.

“Take it steady tonight, Scott.” John advised, his usual tone dropped away to a more brotherly concern, “It was a tough day, but in the end it was successful, everyone walked away – alive.”

Virgil arrived, looking like thunder, and instantly snapped at John, “I suppose you’ve got some comment about it all!”

John, taken aback by the unexpected attack, held up both hands in surrender, “Me! No, I know when to keep quiet!”

“That’ll be the day!” Alan passed through the room, still pissed with them all, now adding John into his list of brothers he hated right then.

“Hey, I had nothing to do with all this!” John said in his defence, then to Scott, “Do you know what - I’m going to leave this to you to sort out! As I recall Scott, it all started with you! Just let me know who’s still alive in the morning!” and he was gone.

“You had no right talking to John like that, Alan!” Scott bellowed up the stairs after the youngest brother.

“No right! No right!” Alan could be heard throughout the house as he thundered back down the stairs he’d just climbed. “I was the one dangling on the end of the rope that no-one else had hold of, I was the one that the cattle nearly trampled!”

“None of that was John’s doing!”

“Maybe not, but he could have warned me that the train was coming!” Alan shouted right in Scott’s face.

The noise had brought Gordon out from the kitchen, “If you hadn’t gone down the rope - like you were told **not** to - then you wouldn’t have been in the damned way of engines fall out – but you never listen!”

“Me, never listen!” Alan was near nuclear, “What about you! Mister ‘I can reach the propellers without the pod’! Look where that got you!”

“Yeah! That was truly dumb!” Virgil chimed in.

“What! And bringing TB2 round to sure up the side of the warehouse wasn’t?” blared Scott, not waiting for a reply from Virgil but turning on Gordon next. “And I never want to see you hanging out of the pod doors like that again either!” He held up a barrier of a hand to stop the argument from Gordon, that it was the only way to _breath_ in the smoke filled cab.

But Virgil came back with, “And of course, you were perfect today, I suppose! Did you hope nobody would notice that little trick of reversing your engines to put out the fire at the fuel dump? That’s beyond dumb, even Grandma knows that’s the easiest way to stall your engines! We could have been fishing bits of you out of the river for months!”

There was suddenly silence.

They stood seething at each other, eyes glaring, chests heaving, hands clenched in tight fists. Tempers flaring so much so, that they all realised that they must each walk away or it may deteriorate into an all-out fight. And not one of them truly felt fit enough for that, each with an ache or pain that would make them regret it later, even if they did each blame someone else for their own injury.

They went their separate ways.

Back in the kitchen, Gordon checked the greenery again. Everything was ready.

He called and one by one they came back to the main room, in silence, sitting up to the table in front of the window as Gordon brought through several covered cooking dishes. The smells sneaking from under the covers were tantalising. Their cold bones ached for something warm and nourishing.

“Well! Go on then, tell me I’m a rubbish cook too!” Gordon scolded, his way to encouraged them to start.

But it was surprised waves of appreciation that came his way. Firstly, he’d made a thick vegetable soup, heavily laden with lamb, the left overs from the night befores meal. He’d found crusty loaves at the back of the freezer which he defrosted then crisped to go with it. Scott smiled, he enjoyed a good soup with crusty bread when he was cold and miserable. Then, there were homemade burgers, thick and juicy with loads of herbs and onions, just like Virgil loved, with masses of wedges coated in paprika, pepper and a layer of strong grated cheese, Alan’s favourite.

Under the last cover was the rabbit food, laced with chai, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, “Oh that’s mine!” Gordon pipped up and pulled it towards him. “Don’t look at me like that, I’ve more respect for my body than to eat that!” And he pointed to the burgers, though he’d been just as cold as the rest of them so enjoyed two bowls of the soup.

They ate in silence to begin with but as the warmth of the soup began to filter into their system, they began to relax.

Gordon looked up at Virgil finally, “Thanks for catching my lifeline Virg, I’d have been under that massive digger if you hadn’t been so quick.”

Virgil grunted an acknowledgement, “S’okay! Can you pass the wedges over here again!” then, “Y’know, if you hadn’t noticed those fumes rising from the wrecked tanker, we could all have been fried!”

Alan grinned, “What about Scott then!” remembering Scott standing up again the battalion of incensed soldiers,  threatening him with all their combined strength and artillery. Alan mimicked his eldest brother’s voice, “ ’Never mind your damned exercise, get those combat vehicles out of here before they all fall further into the mines below!’ You were so cool!” And the grin widened in admiration of his brother’s abilities to deal with the unexpected.

Gordon laughed, “Yeah, I really thought they were going to deck you!”

Virgil grinned, “Don’t worry, Scott, we’d have all ploughed in to save you - eventually!”

The change of atmosphere in the room was heart-warming. A decent meal, a little time and the willingness to back down some, all went a long way to healing the mental wounds of the day.

Scott looked around the table, “Y’know, I think we did okay today!”

They all looked up at him, but it was Virgil, gentle giant, kindly thinking Virgil, who put into words what they were all thinking, they were family after all and they all thought fairly similarly.

“Na! You’re all rubbish and I’m the only one who was right today!”

Alan joined in, grabbing a little chopped greens from Gordon’s plate and throwing it at him, “Yeah but you’re all more rubbish than me!”

“Really!” and Gordon threw them back, they landed on Scott’s arm as he reached forward for more bread. “Ha! Finally justice, the right person gets dumped on!”

Scott flicked the greens back and they scattered across the table and onto the last of the burgers.

“Urgg! I’m not eating that now!” Alan wrinkled up his nose.

“Good, more for me!” and Virgil speared the last one!

“Hey! That was mine!” Alan whined.

Scott sat back from the meal - happy families, he thought, can’t live with them, can’t live without them. Over the next few days, they would all apologise for their mistakes to each other and he mused with the idea that it was usually Gordon who would start it off. He looked down at his empty soup bowl, contemplating another helping, and he wondered if, in fact, Gordon had already made his apology, right there in the food they’d just eaten.

“Nice meal, Gordo.”

“Thanks, everyone had enough?”

Virgil looked up, “Why? Is there some sort of pie?”

“Probably, as in, it’s some sort of pie! I’ve defrosted one of Grandma’s, no idea what’s in it” He brought it onto the table, it was steaming warm and smelt delicious, “But then we never do, do we?” He opened it, “Looks like it might be apple! – I think! No, no I’m not sure.”

They all frowned in wonder at what it might be, then Alan suggested.  “Maybe it’s humble pie?”

Scott looked at him for a moment, “As in, we all ought to have some, after the day we’ve had?”

They groaned at him in chorus! “Nooo!”

“For goodness sakes, Scott!”

“That was just so lame!”

“Totally Cheesy!”

Hmm, maybe so he thought, but true anyway!

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so there are falling shards of metal, stampeding cattle, dangling helplessly off ropes, a runaway train, engines falling from somewhere, loose propellers, a toppling warehouse, smoked filled pods, a fuel dump fire, dangers from a river, lost lifelines, uncontrolled diggers and combat vehicles down a collapsing mine – did I miss anything out? Oh! One day I’ve just got to write the story of this rescue!


End file.
